


Counterclockwise

by Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth



Series: In But A Moment of Time [1]
Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica, The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask
Genre: Gen, No Dialogue, Time Travel, or something like that, some weird dimension where all timelines of all different settings converge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 10:17:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15993155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth/pseuds/Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth
Summary: Two children, both from different realities. She from a world of tainted magic, he from a world besieged by imminent destruction.They have never formally spoken, and yet...





	Counterclockwise

She sees him go by every so often, when she rewinds to a month before. Sometimes they acknowledge each other with a quick wave, but oftentimes they're too occupied with going back to really be bothered.

Unsurprisingly, she doesn't know his name; in return, he doesn't know hers.

There were times she wondered what exactly was the time constraint he'd been given to work with. That way she could learn his routine quicker.

It was because she didn't always see him go by when she reset. In the end, she decided to try out something pertaining to this.

Right before one reset (one in which he didn't appear), she'd managed to rummage together a basket of perishable goods; mostly tea and cookies. Once she'd entered the dimension of time and walked some ways, she set it down. She made certain it was in the path he always takes.

She then pulled out a scrap of paper she'd quick written on (after patting herself down in looking for it), and stuck it in front of the basket where he could see it. The note read as follows:

_For the boy in green._

_-Homura_

She was then off once more, in an effort to save her most cherished Madoka. Hopefully Mami didn't mind some of her goods missing in the previous timeline.

...

He never really has the time to stop and have a proper conversation with her. More often than not, the best he can manage is a simple wave to her, before going through his usual route.

With such a short amount of time to work with, and no time to rest, he gets relatively exhausted. He can't remember if he'd gotten any sleep at all in the three day limit. It could explain his headaches and irritability. He's actually afraid that if he did try to engage her in conversation, it wouldn't end all too well.

It's not often he sees her; maybe once every few cycles, if that. Strangely enough, he feels bad for her having to go through a similar plight he must've been experiencing. He figured that maybe something for the road would help her keep going.

Exactly how he managed to smuggle his contraband through (usually he lost most of his belongings every time he went back), he wouldn't know. He was just glad he was able to do what he could.

In one hand, he carried bottles of milk in a carrier (thank goodness for the Milk Bar in Clock Town). He trudged through, reaching the place he usually saw her. To his surprise, a basket was waiting in that spot.

Once he looked over it and realized it was for him, he felt confident that he was doing a good deed. Before he picked it up, he set down the one he had; in between two of the bottles he stuck a note that hopefully she could find:

_For the girl with purple hair._

_-Link_

With that, he was off to try and rescue Clock Town, with his goodies in hand.

...

As luck would have it, the next time both of them went back, they encountered each other. But this time was different; instead of simply continuing on to their respective destinations, both of them stopped and approached each other. Upon meeting halfway, both of them pulled out a folded piece of paper.

She handed hers to him, and his to her. When grabbing the other paper, they each acknowledged it with a small nod; a gesture of accepting gratitude from a near stranger. The whole time, neither said a word. The act itself was brief (they were racing against time, after all), before they both separated and kept going.

On the way, they unfolded each piece they had. The writing on it was enough to put a small smile on their faces, as they started their own resetted time flow. Both papers said the same two short words:

_Thank you._


End file.
